These birds coming round now — they're called eastern bluebirds — are my heroes.
In the mornings, they love to run along the roof and perch on just about anything.
They flutter around the windows and look inside, right through me. I wonder if they want to visit.
I'm sad that we're worlds apart, with a double pane of glass between us.
I don't know where they go in the afternoon.
Where they get to go.